The Long Way: Traveling Soldiers
by Lilya
Summary: After the breaking of the Fellowship, Frodo, Sam and Victoria started venturing through the Emyn Muil. Looking for a road to Mordor, they found the most unexpected guide...Gollum. Part two in a series.
1. Thoughts in the dark

Title: The long way – Traveling soldiers

Author: Lilya

E-mail: Action/Adventure/Angst/ Drama/Romance… Personally I think there's a bit of everything.

Summary: After the breaking of the Fellowship, Frodo, Sam and Victoria started venturing through the Emyn Muil. Looking for a road to Mordor, they found the most unexpected guide: Gollum.

Main characters: Frodo, Victoria (OC), Sam, Gollum, Faramir.

Pairing: slight Frodo/Victoria

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer. This story contains: Peter Jackson's movie "The Two Towers – Extended Edition" 47 and J. R.R. Tolkien's book 3. Ergo, the remaining 50 should be mine.

If you have already heard it, read it or seen it somewhere else, then it's not mine.

Thanks to: My big sister Veronica, Alessandra and Lara. What would I do without ya…

Special Thanks to my English teacher, prof. Flavio Sarni, who helped me with the transcription of the song you can find in the last chapter.

And what can I say about my incredible beta-reader, Daughter of Olorin? I don't think I'll ever thank her enough for her work and her suggestions. THX!

I know, I know… I should have finished it – and posted it – long ago… Hope it'll be fine nonetheless.

" " speech

'' thoughts

/ Elvish.

_Italic_ foreign language (Italian, Gondor local speech, Piedmont local speech, Latin)

_Italic paragraphs_ flashbacks

**_Italic & bold _**emphasis

**THE LONG WAY**

**Part Two: Traveling soldiers**

CHAPTER I: THOUGHTS IN THE DARK

The rhythmic and soft ticking of the rain against the window glasses was the only sound in that gloomy winter afternoon. The only light in that red-and-yellow room – his House's colors – was the trembling fire in the fireplace, which wasn't enough to drive away the cold or the darkness.

But the cold the boy felt would never be driven back by a flame, even if it was the breath of a dragon. Soul-trapping ice is not easily melted.

The boy passed a hand over his forehead, running his fingers through wisp of hair as black as ink, then he took off his glasses and cleaned them with his t-shirt. He put them on again and went back to studying the photograph in his lap. From the sheet of paper, the violet eyes of a tanned girl were staring at him and the girl's dark brown hair badly tied framed her face, falling carelessly on her shoulders. She did not smile, nor did she make faces at the camera, as the students usually do when taking pictures for the year-book. Deciphering the emotions that stood out on that face and those eyes was very difficult. He could glimpse a pain that couldn't be measured or understood, deep wounds that would never heal, a burning anger and a deep hatred…And in those eyes there was something else, an alarming spark that would have scared anybody. Few could meet that gaze.

The boy shook his head: a lot of people said that it was the look of a mad girl, a lunatic… but he thought that it was just the reflection of all the tears she had cried in her young life.

He lowered his eyes. He couldn't bear the accusations that girl screamed even when she was silent. He who had defeated Voldemort more than once, the young hero of the Wizardry World, the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter the epitome of the Gryffindor could not look at Victoria Cross, the Last Slytherin, in the face. He couldn't even look at her picture.

If he closed his eyes, a thousand images flashed behind his eyelids. He remembered how she had been during her first years in Hogwarts, he remembered her with Flint, Pucey and Malfoy, at that cursed match in his sixth year. He remembered her desperate screams, her sobs echoing in the whole stadium, her accusing looks, so strong and so angry, sharp and deadly as daggers, inerasable. He had never thought that someday those looks would have become even sharper, that those eyes could hold more hatred.

He felt a burden on his chest that cut off his breath, a lump in his heart. And he knew perfectly well why.

He looked at the photo again. A long time had passed from the last time he had taken it out to look at it. That day, Hermione had caught him and she had gotten very angry. She had told him that there was nothing he could do, at least not now. He could not waste his time dwelling on the past, he had to concentrate on the war and the next battle. In the dark, he curved his lips in a bitter smile: there was always a "next battle" the Boy-Who-Lived had to think about.

His thoughts drifted back to Victoria Cross, to the conversations they have had on the bridge outside Hogsmaede. They had met there two or three times, then he had started avoiding that place. He didn't want to meet Victoria, he didn't want to talk to her. Victoria's eyes troubled him, maybe even scared him a little. Her words did that, too. She always mixed up his whole world, shook it from its roots and turned it upside down completely….She tore down the walls of his certainties and left him in the power of the wind. Just like she was, after all: in the power of the cold wind, a prayer to the waves of life.

Slytherin tricks, Ron called it.

A point of view different from our own, Harry defined it.

And even if it was different, if didn't mean that it was evil. A whole House had to be destroyed before he realized that.

He turned his gaze on the decoration that adorned the bracket of the fireplace: Hogwart's Coat of Arms, with the emblems of the Four Houses. Here it was Slytherin's snake, in his quarter opposite Gryffindor's lion.

Another bitter smile. In the middle of a war there were certain people who had the nerve to fuss to have the school's Coat of Arms changed. At least, as long as Dumbledore and he lived, this would never happen. The Lost House of Slytherin would have been remembered at least upon that shield. It was the very least they could do.

Harry Potter stood up and slipped the photo between the pages of the book from which he had taken it. Slowly, he walked to the window: through the rain, he could see the towers and the huge walls of Hogwarts soaking wet.

The Last Slytherin had disappeared long ago. They waited for her at school months before, but she never arrived. Nobody knew where she was, she had no one to turn to. Her mother had been killed, her father had been found dead about eleven days before she disappeared without leaving any trace. Dead were her friends and her Housemates. Some people said she had run away to join the Death Eaters, but Harry knew that even the Imperius Curse wouldn't have brought Victoria Cross on the Dark Lord's side. Or on theirs, for all that mattered. She had said it loud and clear in that May afternoon, on the bridge. He could still hear her voice, "**_I don't fight with murderers._**"

Some people said she was dead. But Harry was quite sure that they were wrong. Victoria Cross was still alive, she was still out there. Harry Potter did not know it, but he was right only about the first point. And he was wrong to believe that he was the only one who still thought about her. The world is not so small as we think. And the Universe is even bigger than we can ever imagine. Elsewhere, very far away, there were other people that were thinking about Victoria Cross. The sunrise was close and the three hunters had conceded themselves a few hours of rest, for two of their companions had been captured by the Orcs and a third had been killed. For the whole day and a good part of the night they had but followed Saruman's creature, using all their energy to gain ground and not to lose the trail. But now, in the dark, their thoughts went back along the road they had taken, to the lake bank where they had been attacked, where their paths had taken different directions. They thought about the Ring Bearer, about his faithful friend – and about a girl they had left behind, a girl who had wanted to take the opposite direction. But in spite of the different roads they had taken, their final purpose was the same. 

Aragorn could still see Boromir's last moments in his head, he could hear his words… The Ranger hung his head low. Boromir was strong, yet he had fallen. And he had made him a promise, a promise he was going to keep. He was a soldier, he knew that every war required some victims – when he thought so, he could almost hear a voice in his head. 'Go to say that to Victoria, let's hear what she'll say…Oh, you know very well what she'd tell you if you told her such a thing!' –

And yet, this time he wondered if there had been something he could have done not to lose that comrade. Things between the two of them had never went well right from the start, from the Council of Elrond. But…there was always that possibility.

At least Victoria had tried to prevent his fall, had stood by him. What if it had been something he had done or said that had annihilated all her work? After Gandalf's loss he had become the leader of the Fellowship, it was his duty to keep them together – but he had failed. And in that bloody Sunday, then, he had made two promises quite similar to two different men regarding the same person, but he had not kept them. When Frodo had asked him to "keep an eye on Torey," he had asked him to keep her by his side, not to let her follow him. A few minutes later, with his last strength left, Boromir had asked him, no, had begged him to take care of his daughter. What a strange fate.

Frodo and Boromir.

Divided by the Ring, united by that girl who had come from a distant land.

But he had betrayed them both, he had let her go. Now she was far away from them, they couldn't keep an eye on her, nor take care of her. He closed his eyes, praying to the Valar for Victoria to be fine. He had already lost Boromir, he would never forgive himself if something had happened to his daughter. He couldn't let him down again. For the nth time, he wondered if he had made the right choice.

Gimli tossed and turned under his cloak. Incredible but true, he couldn't sleep. And, even more incredible, it wasn't the memory of the Lady of the Golden Wood that kept him awake! Immediately, he felt a strange pang in his heart. He had thought that if that little nuisance had been there, she would have surely started teasing him for his crush. But she wasn't there and he missed her. For the whole journey from Rivendell to Rauros, even before the journey started, he had always complained because of the presence of that tenth, unwelcome member of the Fellowship. He didn't miss an occasion to remind that, in his opinion, females should be left at home, that that was no place for a woman, but, obviously, they didn't pay him any heed and the first not to listen to him was said cursed brat! How many times he had cursed her poisonous tongue! And he had never thought that someday he'd miss her.

In fact, as soon as they had been out of her earshot, Gimli had started saying that leaving that half-mad girl on her own, or rather giving her leave to go with the Hobbits hadn't been a wise decision!

'Who knows what that fool has done! And letting her cross the lake on one of those boats…all right, they belonged to the Lady Galadriel, but what the Mordor, she's always a girl, after all! Let us just hope that the boat hasn't been upset and she has not drowned. And even if she'll manage to cross that damned puddle, I'm sure she shall be discovered by the Orcs and shall alarm them. Who knows if she shall manage to find the other Hobbits…Maybe she shall not, in thirty years from now she shall still be there, wandering on those damned shores and we shall have to go back and get her home. That's if she shall be still alive! It would almost be better if she does not find them, she is quarrelsome and hot-headed… She shall get herself and the two Hobbits killed, so we shall be doomed!' And he kept on imagining the most tragic sceneries, from Victoria starving to death after she had lost her way in the Emyn Muil to the Orcs tearing her into pieces and so on. He turned on his back, mumbling. 'Bah! After all, that was her choice, wasn't it? Now she has to deal with it, doesn't she?' He turned on his side again. 'That wretch had better come back safe and sound, or I shall cut her head off personally!'

A few meters away from him, Legolas sat against a tree, his eyes open. He looked like he was immersed in the deep slumber typical of his people, but it was not so. His eyes looked back toward the Golden Falls and his ears were strained, trying to catch the Falls' song carried by the wind. But that was a fruitless search and he should have known: they had run for the whole afternoon and part of the night, they were too far.

The Elf raised his eyes toward the sky, begging for the protection of the Lady of the Stars. He wondered if the stars and the constellations that shone upon Middle Earth were the same that Victoria saw from the Earth from which Vicky came. He had never asked her. Maybe he would never have a chance to do so. He tried to drive back that thought, but it was hard, it was almost impossible. Deep in his heart still remained a thin vein of apprehension, fine as a web but strong as the roots of dog's-tooth.

He studied the sky above them. It seemed to him that the stars were smiling encouragingly. He hoped that they shone also on the young witch wherever she was and that they could give her strength and comfort.

'Who knows if Victoria is fine…who knows what she is doing now.'

Wrapped in her blanket, Victoria Cross did not sleep. Her eyes were wide open on the darkness around them, but she was not keeping watch. Her hands clutched the silver cross she wore around her neck as silent tears fell on her white-and-green scarf. Her thoughts were not there, among those bare rocks, but on the banks of the river she had left behind just a few hours before. The new wound she had received was very deep and bled abundantly. In the silence of the night she cried and prayed for her father's soul to find peace. And between tears and invocations of her distant God, from the bottom of her heart and soul she cursed the One Ring, who had forged It and who looked for It! She would have given anything to see that hated thing destroyed.

Suddenly, a moan of pain rose in the nightly air, but it wasn't her. Victoria turned to her two sleeping fellow-travelers and saw Frodo tossing and turning in his sleep, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. She immediately ran to his side, shaking him awake and gently calling his name. Finally, the hobbit threw his eyes open wide. As soon as he focused on a figure bending over him, he backed away violently, freeing himself from her gentle hold and automatically bringing a hand to the Ring.

"Calm down, Frodo. It's just me…" she said softly, taken aback by his reaction.

"Oh, Vivi. I…I had not realized that it was you," he panted.

The girl sat down next to him. "Do you wanna talk?"

"About what?" he asked.

"About the nightmare you've just had," she replied.

"Well…I…" He looked away. "No, I'd rather not to. I don't even remember what it was about exactly," he added hurriedly, not giving her enough time for a reply.

Victoria looked at him with her clear eyes and ran her hands through her hair. "Okay, as you wish. But remember that, if you need something…" she trailed off suggestively.

Frodo nodded and lay down again, but he did not fall asleep because he was thinking about his dream. He had lived over again Gandalf's fall. His eyes filled with tears, for that wound had not healed yet.

Frodo laid a hand on his own chest, exactly where the Ring was – he could feel it through his clothes. A few hours ago, he had said that he was glad that he was not alone – but that was not completely true. He recalled Galadriel's warning: 'To bear a Ring of Power is to be alone…One by one, It will destroy them all.'

The Hobbit shivered as he remembered the encounter he had had with Boromir in the woods near the river. The Man had almost tried to take the Ring from him – and he had been afraid, just like he was now. Victoria was a witch, but she belonged to the Mankind – what if the Ring had managed to reach her? What if It would have done to her the same thing It had done to her father? The Ring Bearer had left the Fellowship to protect her and the others, but he had not foreseen that she'd have followed him. Frodo wondered why Aragorn and Boromir had not detained her – but, knowing her and how her mind worked, it was almost sure that she had not asked for their permission. He wondered if she had followed him or the Ring and the thought hurt him, hurt him a lot. Maybe because he feared that the right answer to the question would be his second option, maybe because he felt guilty for doubting her…But he could not help it. Victoria was a woman, step-daughter to Boromir of Gondor, one of the Mankind.

And everybody knows that Men desire power above everything else.

Victoria stared at Frodo's back. She knew that he was awake, but he didn't want to talk with her, she wasn't going to force him.

Being excluded like that did hurt her. She had always been closer to him than anybody else, he used to say that she was the only one who understood him and that this was the only thing that mattered – and now he was shutting her out. And she was not inclined to let it happen without a fight. The young witch wondered what he was thinking about, if she would be able to help him somehow. She wondered if she would be able to save him from the Ring, since she had failed with her own father.

The girl sighed. She badly needed a cigarette, but she had run out of them.

She clutched her cross between her hands. That damned Ring had taken the only father she had ever known away from her, now she'd not allow him to take Frodo as well. He was everything she had…and he didn't deserve to carry such a burden on his own, whatever Mrs. Know-It-All could think.

'She should go to predict the future at the corner of the street, maybe a truck would run her over!' she thought angrily.

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	2. Suspects

CHAPTER II: SUSPECTS

As the hours slowly passed by, the light gradually grew. The sun could not make his way through the ash-colored clouds, but it was clear that a new day had begun. It was time to continue their journey.

Even in the daylight, the Emyn Muil still looked wild and scary.

The girl looked up toward the sky, watching the dark spot that was her hawk flying against the clouds. She tried to ignore the barren and sharp rocks that surrounded them and that looked like the mouth of a huge shark, ready to close over them, rip them with its teeth and swallow them. Victoria shivered and approached Frodo and Sam: she wasn't going to let them out of her sight for a single minute.

Above them flew Duke, like a guardian angel, never taking his eyes off of them. He felt an evil presence on one of the Halflings, but his main focus was always his mistress.

He was not the only one who checked on Victoria almost constantly. Another pair of eyes followed every breath the young witch took, never leaving her for a moment. But they weren't Frodo's blue eyes – though they often stole a swift glance at her – but Samwise Gamgee's brown ones. The Hobbit knew that there was no one he and his master could trust, not even one of the members of the ex-Fellowship. Especially, not a Human.

They were going to continue like that for the whole day: they'd slowly proceed among the sharp rocks, so caught up in keeping an eye on each other that they didn't notice a fifth pair of eyes that spied on all of them.

A few minutes after they resumed their march, they found a high precipice on their way.

"My goodness, it's so deep…" Victoria murmured, taking a step back.

"Aye," Sam agreed. "I can't see the bottom, the fog is too thick."

"Well, I guess this means we'll have to make a detour," the girl said, visibly relieved. "Come on, let's look for a passage."

She had but taken two steps when Frodo's voice stopped her. "It will take time – time we have not."

Victoria slowly turned to look at them. "Frodo…" she squeaked in a terrified voice, beads of sweat standing out upon her forehead. "You ain't thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

Frodo lowered his head. "Well…honestly…I am."

She threw him a shocked look. "You're kidding. You can't be serious."

"We don't know how much time we could waste by looking for another way, Sam said, backing his master up.

"It wouldn't be wasted if we can find a safer road," Victoria replied.

"You are saying it yourself," Frodo spoke up. " "If." We can't waste our precious time looking for a safer passage that might not exist."

"Right, it's better be sure to break our neck!" Victoria remarked.

"No, we won't break anything," Sam contradicted her as he rummaged through his backpack. "Look, I've got a rope. We shall tie it around a rock and climb down it."

"And you think that that thread of cobweb will bear our weight?" Victoria cried out, pointing to the light-colored rope. "Oh, please!"

"It's a Lothlorien rope!" Sam replied decidedly.

The girl snorted, halfway between disbelievingly and mockingly.

"Well, if you don't like it, you can very well go back!" Sam said angrily.

"That's not an option." She adjusted her backpack on her shoulders, glanced at Duke and closed her eyes. "I know I'll regret this…"

When she opened her eyes, Sam was tying the last knot. The rest of the rope, hanging in the ravine, disappeared in the thick fog.

"After you, Mister Frodo," Sam said, stepping back respectfully.

The Ring Bearer took a deep breath, then he grabbed the rope tightly and started climbing down. Victoria swallowed hard when he disappeared beyond the edge of the cliff.

Sam waited for a few moments, then he started climbing down as well. Again, Victoria stood still and watched him disappear.

"Come on, Miss," Sam shouted from inside the fog. "What are you waiting for?"

Victoria took a deep breath, then she called Duke. "Wait for us at the bottom, understood?" The hawk flew away and disappeared in the ravine full of fog. Victoria slowly came near the rope, then, without looking down, she slowly started climbing down the cliff. "I can do this, I can do this," she kept on whispering to herself, trying to concentrate. "Don't be afraid, Torey. Everything will be okay, you won't fall."

Suddenly, she realized something, 'I **_can't_** fall…If I fall, I'll bring Frodo and Sam down with me!' Her hands tightened around the rope. 'Great. As if I wasn't already terrified…'

Victoria could not say precisely how long it took them. Maybe a century or two. She saw nothing but the nearer rocks and the fog. The sounds of her companions' footsteps and their voices many meters below her were a ghostly presence. She heard Sam's voice beneath her: "Can you see the bottom?"

"No…" Frodo answered. "Don't look down, you two. Just keep going."

Victoria shivered and carefully moved her foot from one hook to another. Suddenly, she heard a strange sound beneath her. And then Sam's shout: "Catch it! Grab it, Mister Frodo!"

The Hobbit had lost his foot for a moment and, when he had slammed against the cliff, a small wooden box had fallen down from his pocket. Frodo stretched to grab it, but he lost his grip and fell, followed by Sam's scream: "FRODO!"

When she heard that scream, Victoria threw every caution out of the window and looked down. Below her there was but rocks and fog, she could barely make out Sam's golden hair. Her fear of height, united to another kind of fear that was, maybe, even stronger, crashed upon her like a wave on a cliff, almost tearing her away. She closed her eyes, clinging to the rocks and holding her breath.

From the ground came Frodo's voice. "I think I have found the bottom."

The girl started breathing almost normally again. She couldn't tell if it was because of the news or because she had heard that dear voice again.

A few seconds later, Sam landed muttering, "Bogs and rope and goodness knows what! It's not natural. None of it."

Frodo shrugged his shoulders and came back near the cliff. "Come on, Vivi, it's almost over. Place your foot there, on the left…no, more on the left. There, like that. Very good."

Ten minutes later, a trembling and deathly pale witch finally reached the ground.

"See? You did it!" Frodo said encouragingly as he gave her a friendly pat on her arm.

Victoria nodded silently. When she finally found the strength to speak, her voice was little more than a whisper. "But don't you dare ask me to do such a thing again!"

Frodo patted her arm again and turned to Sam, studying the small box. "What's in this?"

"Nothing," the gardener answered. "Just a bit of seasoning. I thought maybe if we was having a roast chicken one night or something."

Victoria's chin positively hit the ground, while Frodo looked at his friend half-away between astonished and amused. "Roast chicken?"

"You never know…" Sam replied.

"Sam, my dear Sam…" the Ring Bearer murmured as he opened the box and watched the clear grains of salt.

"It's very special that," the other Hobbit remarked, as the witch was still recovering from the shock. "It's the best salt in all the Shire."

Frodo smiled softly. "It is special…It's a little bit of home."

Victoria gave up the scene she was about to make to the gardener and smiled tenderly without speaking.

Frodo came near the rope, giving Sam his box back. "We can't leave this here for someone to follow us down."

"Who's going to follow us down here, Mr. Frodo?" Sam said

"Orcs, Nazguls, animals at Sauron's service, spies of Sauron in general…Is that enough or I should go on?" Victoria replied, listing the various possibilities. "I think we should set it on fire," she proposed as she took her lighter out.

"It's a shame, really. Lady Galadriel gave me that." Victoria made a face as she turned on the flame and approached the rope. "Real Elvish rope. Well, there's nothing for it," Sam continued, stealing the rope from the flame just a moment before they touched. "It's one of my knots. Won't come free in a hurry." He gave a small tug. Many meters above them, the knot loosened and the rope fell down at their feet.

Frodo turned to Sam. "Real Elvish rope."

Victoria dropped on the ground as pale as a ghost.

"Vicky!" the two Hobbits cried out at the same time.

Frodo hurriedly knelt down by her side and made her lean her head against his shoulder to allow her to breathe more easily. The girl shook as if she had caught a fever, but her hands were as cold as ice. "Victoria, what's the matter? What's going on?" Frodo asked, trying to hold her hand.

"What do you think it is, Mister Frodo?" Sam asked worriedly.

Frodo opened his mouth to state his idea, but Victoria preceded him and indirectly confirmed his suspicion. "Go hang yourselves with your damned Elvish rope, you and that wretch!" She shouted, furious. "Won't come free in a hurry, eh? What would have happened if it had come off as we were still getting down?"

Sam blushed and lowered his eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Miss…But the knot was well tightened, I'm sure…"

"Yeah, right! Next time…"

What she suggested for the next time remained unknown, because Frodo covered her mouth with his hand. "That's enough. You two are making too much noise," he whispered in a low voice. "Now we are here, we must keep on going." He turned to the girl, who was still trembling in his arms. "Vivi, are you all right? Can you stand up?" She shook her head and the hobbit sighed. "Come on, everything is fine…It's all over, now," he whispered as he caressed her face.

Slowly, Victoria managed to pull herself – and her nerves – together. The trio was ready to continue.

"To think that some people find free-climbing funny…" Victoria muttered as she picked up her lighter. "These two climbs were horrible!"

"Two?" Frodo asked, turning back to her.

"The first and the last, if I have something to say in this matter." Victoria explained as she re-adjusted her backpack. A cigarette would have helped her poor nerves, unfortunately she had smoked the last one two days before.

They kept on marching between the sharp rocks.

At night, the travelers set their camp in a spot shielded by a group of rocks. It had been a long day and soon they lay down to sleep. Frodo, however, could not fall asleep – or maybe he did not want to. He kept on repeating to himself that it had been a hard day and the next would be even worse if he did not rest, but, on the other hand, he feared the Ring voice and the nightmares it could bring him. He did not want to see Gandalf fall again…please, everything but that. If only the stars had been watching over him, over all of them…but upon their head there was but that shrewd of gray clouds.

He sighed, turning on his side. As if it wasn't enough, since they had entered the Emyn Muil he had a feeling that somebody was spying on him, he always felt trapped inside a pair of unfriendly eyes. He could still make out Victoria's silhouette in the dark. "If only she wasn't here…" he thought confusedly as he fell asleep. But it was hard to tell apart his own thoughts from his doubts and the Ring's voice.

"Mister Frodo…come on, Mister Frodo, it's time to get up."

With a sigh, the Hobbit opened his eyes. "All right, I am awake." His gaze fell on the person sitting on a rock in front of them. He met Victoria's eyes. He couldn't understand why she was staring at him like that, with that strange, far away look…Victoria's body was clearly there, but her mind was not. She reminded him of Boromir when the Ring had possessed him and that scared him a lot. Automatically, he brought a hand to his neck to check on the Ring. It was still there. Frodo sighed, but it wasn't exactly a sigh of relief.

Victoria watched Sam as he woke Frodo up without really seeing him. She had come back in time to many weeks before, to the beginning of their journey…When they had just left Rivendell and they were moving Southward among woods, lawns, sweet hills and table-lands. She thought of how her father used to wake her up every morning, of their playful arguments, of how her dad could always trick her and how she had been more than happy to let herself be tricked.

She closed her eyes. She must not think about that, it was already too hard. She had breakfast with her two companions and then they set off again. Sam didn't let her out of his sight for more than a second and Frodo briefly glanced at her from time to time. All as usual. Victoria did not say a word. Instead, she prayed that that damned expanse of rocks would end soon.

Many hours later, they stopped to swallow a modest lunch that consisted, like every other meal, in a couple of bites of Lembas, then they left again. The Emyn Muil were worse than a pluvial forest, a lot worse than that. If it hadn't been impossible, Victoria would have sworn that somebody had taken the trouble to sharpen everything, even every single pebble. And then, as if it wasn't enough, there wasn't a definite road they could follow. Truth to be told, there wasn't even a confused path. The trio simply walked ahead, trying to proceed in a straight line toward Mordor, but that wasn't always possible. More often than not, their path was barred by huge rocks and old landslides. Victoria – who was a little bit more agile than the two Hobbits – tried to climb upon the rocks and help them pass on the other side, but sometimes they found themselves facing such barriers that even Spider Man wouldn't have managed to climb. So they had to run round those obstacles by taking long turns, sometimes even going back for a long part of the road.

Frodo cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. He didn't know why, but he got a feeling that something wasn't right.

Following what seemed a safe trail, they found themselves caught in the nth cul-de-sac.

"Oh no! _Turna_! The goddess of bad luck has struck again!"Victoria cried out. Turna "again" in Piedmontese dialect

"Damn it, it's impossible," Sam said, exasperated, as he dropped on a rock.

Frodo observed the mass of collapsed rocks that barred their way. "I swear that if I didn't know that these have come down for natural causes…" he murmured, trailing off.

"What a bore! You know what? This is the nth proof that not only Fortune is blind and Bad Luck has a perfect sight, but the latter must have her eyes set on us, damn it!"

"Come on, Miss Victoria, these things do happen…" Sam tried to shoot her down.

"But they seem to happen especially to us, damn it!"

"Now, now…" Frodo spoke up. "Let us see if we can pass nonetheless."

Unfortunately, those rocks were completely unstable and they would have crumbled under their feet as soon as they took the first step.

"We can but run around them, then," Sam remarked tiredly.

Frodo sighed: "Another waste of time."

"We could ask Duke if he can see something…" Victoria proposed as she raised her head toward the sky. To her great astonishment, she saw but the thick mass of gray clouds. She looked around, thinking that the hawk had landed, but there was no trace of him on the nearby rocks. The girl whistled, but nothing happened. She whistled again a couple of times, but before she could try again, Frodo stopped her, laying a hand on her arm. "Leave it. If you keep on whistling, they might find us."

"But…"

"Don't you worry. He will come. You do know Duke: he'd follow you anywhere."

The girl sighed. "Okay. I hope you're right. In the meantime, we'll wait for him here."

Frodo nodded and walked away to sit down far from her. For a moment it had been just like it used to be, at least for the two of them since Sam had been staring at them for the whole time.

They stood there, waiting, and a few minutes later they looked up. They had heard a strange mix between a scream and a bird's shriek. Three hands grasped the handle of three swords.

Her face as white as chalk, Victoria whistled again, but her hawk did not answer her call. More than a quarter of hour had passed before Duke appeared: he had lost some feathers and his claws were blood-stained. As soon as she saw him, Victoria raised her arm and he obediently landed upon it. "What happened? Are you wounded? Are there any Orcs?" she asked worriedly.

"It didn't sound like an Orc…" Sam murmured as he carefully watched the rocks that lay in the direction from which the hawk had come.

Right in that moment, Frodo understood everything: the sensations he had felt in the last days, those evil eyes he felt burning on his back and that wild scream clicked together like pieces of a mosaic. "It's not an Orc…" he murmured. "It's Gollum."

Duke let out a low sound and flapped his wings, as if he was agreeing with the Hobbit.

"This means that he follows us…he spies on us," Sam said darkly.

Victoria turned to them, her lip clenched in a firm line. "Guys, it's better if we start keeping watch at night." She turned to the hawk. "You'll help us, won't you, Duke?" She noticed that Frodo had a strange expression on his face. "What's wrong, Frodo?"

"I know that it must be done, but…this will slow us down," he explained.

"We have no choice, Mister Frodo," Sam spoke up.

"Well…" Victoria said. "I'm sure that he won't bother us tonight. Come on, let's look for a passage."

They managed to get over that obstacle as well and nighttime found them with a slightly bigger part of the road behind them. Frodo was not at ease in the dark. He was terribly tired, but he didn't want to sleep. By now, the other two knew that his sleep was restless and he had nightmares – they had forced him to admit that.

"How I wish I was an Elf and I did not need to sleep…" the Hobbit sighed.

"If you wish, I could…I could sing you a song to make you fall asleep," Victoria said shyly, for she knew she sang quite badly.

Frodo looked at her for a moment, then nodded, smiling softly. "Thank you, Vivi. I'd like that very much." He ignored Sam's looks and the rebukes that came from part of his brain. He was too tired and though Victoria didn't sing like Lily Boffin or May Hornblower, it was always a welcomed distraction.

"Come on, lay down," the girl said as she moved to sit by his side. "Close your eyes…" she whispered as she caressed his forehead. As soon as she did so, she started.

"_I guess he'd rather be in Colorado,_

_He'd rather spend his time out_

_Where the sky looks like a pearl after the rain._

_Once again I see him walking, once again I hear him talking_

_To the stars he makes and asking them the busfare_"

It wasn't exactly a lullaby, but it was a sweet, soft and quiet song. He didn't know what to call it.

"_I guess he'd rather be in Colorado_

_He'd rather play his banjo_

_In the morning when the moon is scarcely gone_

_In the dawn the subway's coming, in the dawn I hear him humming_

_Some old song he wrote of love in Boulder Canyon_

_I guess he'd rather be in Colorado._"

And then, that melancholic song had another undisputable good quality: somehow, it reminded him of his home and expressed very well the two Hobbits' feeling, though in their case it was a matter of the Shire and not of Colorado – wherever that place could be.

"_I guess he'd rather be in Colorado_

_I guess he'd rather work_

_Out where the only thing you earn is what you spend_

_In the end up in his office_

_In the end a quiet cough_

_Is all he has to show he lives in New York City_

_I guess he'd rather be in Colorado._"**1**

Victoria smiled sweetly for the first time in many days. Frodo had fallen peacefully asleep as he listened to the nostalgic ballad. He was so beautiful…he looked like an angel fallen from Heaven. Victoria felt a great tenderness in her heart, but also a great fear to lose him. She leaned down to wrap his cloak around him and, when she got up, she found herself staring at the blazing eyes of Samwise Gamgee. In spite of everything, she let out a bitter smile. "You are keeping an eye on me, ain't ya?"

Her question caught him off guard, but he tried not to show it. He nodded, keeping his face expressionless. He did not look away.

Victoria sat up and crossed her legs. "I understand…" she murmured. "After all, I belong to the Mankind. And I'm Boromir's daughter"

"Well, you know what they say, Miss: blood will tell…tough you aren't really father and daughter, well…you know what I mean," he tried to explain.

She nodded. "I know."

They sat silently for a while, staring at the ground without seeing it. Suddenly, the witch raised her head to meet again the gardener's gaze. "You think I want to take the Ring of Power."

"Yes, Madam. That's what I fear." His voice was firm as he spoke.

"Can I ask you a question, Sam?"

The Hobbit looked at her, puzzled. Definitely, that wasn't the reaction he had expected. Victoria was sitting in front of him, calm as the surface of a lake, waiting for his answer. "Of course you can."

"What should I do with that Goddamned Ring?" she asked calmly.

Sam's eyes were wide with astonishment. "But…well…the Ring is…I mean…it would give you power…"

She raised her eyebrows. "Power?" she laughed quietly, not to wake Frodo up. "What's the use of power?" Her eyes met Sam's and he noticed that they held a strange look, sad and broken…and her voice was cracking with tears and painful memories as well. "It doesn't fill the emptiness. It just makes it worse."

Sam felt deeply ashamed of himself and lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry, Madam…I shouldn't have…"

Victoria leaned toward him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "It doesn't matter. If I had been in your place, I would have been careful as well. Now go to sleep, I'll keep watch."

"Thank you, Madam. Feel free to wake me up when you feel tired." He wrapped his own gray cloak around his shoulders and fell asleep.

Victoria sat there, awake and alone, thinking about their conversation. She turned toward the Ring Bearer, barely suppressing the urge to caress his dark locks. No, power did not fill the emptiness…but Frodo did. And in that moment, Victoria felt emptier than ever. Singing that song had been a mistake: it reminded her of her father, especially the two last verses of the first strophe. Boromir would never walk by her side nor talk to her again. She missed him, she missed him a lot. But he was lost to her. And Frodo was still there.

When she finished her watch, she lay down a few feet away from the Ring Bearer, but she couldn't fall asleep. She was worried and the pain in her heart didn't let her rest. Frodo started tossing and turning in his sleep, fighting again the cloak that was wrapped around his body like a snake. Victoria got to her knees and soon reached his side, motioning for Sam not to worry. She called the Hobbit's name and shook him until he woke up. "Sssh, it was just a dream," she tried to comfort him, seeing him so tense and scared.

"What o'clock is it?" he asked.

"It's early, go back to sleep," she whispered, gently pushing him until he was on his back again. She started retreating, but the Hobbit caught her hand with his own and squeezed it tight. "Would you sing to me again? Please…" He needed something, anything to concentrate on.

Victoria smiled in the dark. 'As if I could deny you anything…' she thought, then she said in a low voice. "Okay. But…well…"

"Yes?"

"Can I sleep by your side?"

Frodo hesitated. It would have been better to say no, but there was something in her voice, in her gaze…and then having her close still felt good in spite of everything. "Sure."

"Thanks. Now close your eyes" She lay down by his side and started singing.

"_I caught a ride on the dreamland express last night_

_I was sailing on an ocean of blue_

_Right there by my side much to my surprise was you._

_I said, come on over here, baby, let me look in your eyes_

_Let me see the very heart of you_

_And I couldn't believe it, to conceive that my dream would come true._

_Cause you said, hey there sweet daddy, everything is all right_

_For miles there's not a telephone line._

_There's not a soul to disturb us, don't be nervous_

_Just come and be mine_"**2**

The song was slow, but not as melancholic as the previous one: there was a merry tone hidden between its soft notes. What really struck him was the chorus: maybe because of its lyrics, maybe because of the way she was singing it – though it was still off key – but it sounded like a promise, a plea…

" _You said, let me be the end of your rainbow_

_Let me be the stars up above_

_Let me be the one that you long for, darling_

_Let me be the one that you love oh oh_

_Let me be the one that you love_"

Vivi's voice caressed his ears and Frodo allowed himself to be lulled in that kind of daydream, scanned by his own loud heartbeats.

"_Now it's four in the mornin', honey I can't sleep._

_I can't seem to get you out of my mind_

_I keep tossin' and turnin', yearnin' for the sun to shine_

_I'd like to send you a ticket on the Dreamland Express,_

_And take you far away with me_

_I've got a vision of heaven and you livin' there with me._

_Baby, let me be the end of your rainbow_

_Let me be the stars up above_

_Let me be the one that you long for, darling_

_Let me be the one that you love oh oh_

_Let me be the one that you love_"**2**

The song ended. Victoria leaned closer and lightly kissed his temple, then she lay back down behind him.

He hadn't thought that her presence could still be comforting. But his doubts hadn't been buried yet: they had just been driven back for a while. Just for a night.

The Hobbit held his breath when he felt Victoria's hands on his shoulders. But, instead of climbing up to his neck, they drifted downward on his arms, caressing them as they went by. The girl wrapped her arms around his waist and gently pulled him close, sighing softly. Frodo realized that she was sleeping and relaxed in her embrace, covering her tanned hands with his own. It was good to be hugged, to feel protected…and loved.

"If only…" he started thinking, but sleep caught him before he could finish his sentence. Maybe he himself didn't know what he was going to say exactly. Probably because there was nothing to say.

In the dark, the Ring started speaking again.

1: John Denver, "I guess he'd rather be in Colorado."

2: John Denver, "The Dreamland Express."


	3. Crumbling Defences

CHAPTER III: CRUMBLING DEFENCES

During one the most beautiful summer days the Shire had ever seen, Frodo Baggins, master of Bag End, sat under a blooming tree with a book in his hands.

He was trying to read, but he couldn't concentrate. He was so anxious and nervous that the written words seemed to move under his eyes.

Why did he feel so? He didn't know, but he felt that something was about to happen. Something wonderful. Something great.

A faint music reached his ears and he knew that what he had been waiting for had finally come. He left the book on the grass and ran as fast as he could to the gate.

The road was still empty, but the music was getting nearer and nearer. He could already make out the lyrics of the song:

" _Spring is alive in Carolina_

_deep in the forest where the foxfire glows_

_high on a mountain, down in a holler,_

_thunder and lightning, so it goes!_"**1**

Suddenly, Bagshot Row exploded in a myriad of colors. Hundreds and hundreds of Hobbits with colorful clothes and painted faces advanced confusedly down the street singing, dancing, turning head over heels and jumping as they waved garlands of flowers. They looked like a river of strange flowers that had suddenly decided to rip their roots away from the ground and celebrate the new spring.  
There were so many and their clothes were so different and so colorful that Frodo didn't know wherever he should look first.  
His eyes darted from one place to another, so anxious he was not to lose anything.

His cousin Merry passed by, spinning and whirling like a top, his face painted in yellow and blue stripes. As usual, young Pippin followed him suit: he had a huge sausage-shaped balloon tied around his wrist and wore a strange jacket of black leather that didn't fit, for it was way too big for him.

Frodo laughed and waved at Fatty Bolger, who was bowling a hoop. Raising on his tip-toes, he managed to catch a glimpse of his friend Sam, who wore a suit made with a lot of patches of fabric variously colored all sewn together. The gardener was throwing confetti with the help of Rosie Cotton, who wore a cap with harness-bells. There were a lot of harness-bells sewed on her orange dress as well.

Right in that moment, along the road came the main attraction: a wagon adorned with rags that transported a fake four-layers cake made of hay.

Behind the wagon hung some tins while at the top of the huge cake, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins waved her famous umbrella with a hand and a bottle of Butterbeer with the other. Around the wagon, everyone was cheering and clapping.

Among all that confusion, Frodo thought he heard a voice calling his name. The Hobbit turned around and saw Victoria pushing her way through the crowd, heading toward him. She wore a plain and light white dress, its skirt reaching about her knees and its sleeves short and wide. She also wore garlands of flowers like everybody else.

The girl took him by the hand and spoke loudly to be heard above the cheerful clamor. "What are you doing here? Come, come with us! Come on!" she said as she dragged him through the crowd, dancing and twirling in the street. "Come on, sing! _Spring is alive in Carolina…_" she sang as she waved her dark and smooth arms, that did not bear neither tattoos nor scars. Nor this, nor the fact that she was now as tall as him seemed strange to him.

Truth to be told, he didn't notice it.

Singing and dancing, the procession reached the lawn where Bilbo's famous birthday party had been held. Some Hobbits, especially the older ones, moved to the edge of the land, making room for the young dancers, who spun around in couples, holding hands with each other.

Frodo was one of them. He spun around holding Victoria's hands in his own, the rest of the world but a colorful blur. Victoria was the only clear thing he could see.

After a while they stopped and moved away from the "dance floor."

In the very middle of the clearing they had lit a great fire and now stood in circle around it, clapping and cheering the young boys who tried to jump over it.

Victoria was by his side, clapping and cheering with him. He thought he had never had so much fun. The girl moved in front of him, shouting over the noise. "So, what do you think of St. Giovanni's party?"**2**

Frodo was about to answer, but, to his great horror, he saw that the fire behind her had turned into a huge, blazing eye. Victoria started drifting away, as if she was being pulled toward the eye by an invisible force.

Frodo tried to catch her, but it was as if he had tried to grab the wind. The girl disappeared between the flames that were getting nearer and nearer.

Terrified, the Hobbit turned to run away, but instead of the green, pleasant Shire, he found the most complete devastation.

The fields had been burned down, nothing was left of the houses but smoking ruins and knocked-down fences. The air smelled of dust, ashes and Death.

Scattered on the plain, he could see corpses buried in the mud and half-eaten by Orcs. He felt the fire burning his back…and suddenly he opened his eyes and found himself in the darkness of the Emyn Muil.

Frodo took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow his heartbeats, then he lay down again and waited for the coming of Sleep that wrapped him in his dark cloak.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Victoria was crying in the underground Common Room, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of her brothers and sisters, of her Housemates. Between her sobs, she repeated a continuous litany: "Damn you, damn you, damn you…"

Suddenly, from the darkest corner of the room that she had believed empty, came a soft, low voice. "Poor little girl. They have been hard with you, haven't they?" Victoria nodded as a sob escaped her lips. "You are angry, aren't you? Another mute nod. "You want to make them pay, don't you?"

"Yeah." The girl growled, grinding her teeth. "I wanna see them all in Azkaban, I wanna see them burn in Hell!" She shook her head resignedly. "But that won't happen. They'll never find them. And even if they found them, they'd never be considered murderers. Only the Slytherins would find them and only Slytherins would condemn them."

"What's the matter, then?" the voice asked.

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. "There are no more Slytherins. **_True_** Slytherins. All those that remained died tonight."

"Oh, but you are wrong, my dear! They are not dead. They still live…inside of you. You are the last true Slytherin left, my dear. Avenging your Housemates is up to you!" Victoria knitted her brows disbelievingly. The voice kept on speaking, "Come on, dear, why do you look so doubtful? It's quite obvious! For what other reason but revenge would they have saved you? Look at them…you do remember how they where, don't you? Until a few hours ago they were alive, full of hopes and dreams…and now they're but a bunch of useless, empty shells."

"Just like me, then," the girl murmured, hugging her knees to her chest.

"No, no, my dear. You are still alive. You have a mission that must be fulfilled."

"Avenge my Housemates…" Victoria snarled in a low voice, a flame of frightening madness shining in her gaze. "But I know I'll never succeed…I didn't see the murderers' faces. No one will betray them or witness against them." She shook her head. "No one will help me. On my own, I don't stand a chance."

"Now, now, my dear, you mustn't think this. And then, you are not alone – you have me."

"You?" she repeated, uncertain.

"Exactly, my dear. I want to help you. I can help you to discover who was under those masks. I can help you in your revenge," He whispered in a sweet, comforting voice.

The girl smiled. "Yes…finally, we'll have justice." She let out a low laugh. "Our dear Gryffindors will have a lot of time to enjoy Azkaban…" A sudden though crossed her mind. "But what will we do with the witnesses? The only people who could witness are their own Housemates and they'd never betray each other…"

The other let out a sigh full of sorrow. "Unfortunately, we shall do without witnesses. But, after all, my dear, do you really think that they deserve a regular trial?"

"Well…it's their right…" she weakly tried to object, but the voice cut her off.

"It was your right too! Where's the courtroom, where are the proofs, where are judges and jury? **_When have you been tried?_**"

"Never…" Victoria murmured. "Never…" A deep, wild anger had started raising inside of her.

"If _**you **_didn't even have a trial, I cannot see why _**they**_ should have this privilege! And then, my dear, as you said yourself, only a jury of Slytherins could condemn them. _**Be that jury!**_" He whispered softly.

"I don't have the power to send them to Azkaban…" she replied.

"Oh, my dear, do you really think they deserve Azkaban? After all the evil deeds they have done to you?"

"_**No,**_" Victoria answered, clenching her fists. "They deserve Hell…"

"And they have it, my dear. They shall have it. We shall give it to them. Together we can avenge your Housemates and all the Slytherins, we can give their murderers an exemplar punishment!"

"They'll pay…" the girl moaned. "They won't get away with that. They cannot. They mustn't!"

"We shall punish them, my dear, we shall punish them. We shall make them crawl on the ground, like worms!" There was a good amount of cruel satisfaction in the tone of the voice.

"Like they have done to us…" Victoria added, by now prey of a kind of wild exaltation. Anger and thirst for justice burned inside of her and in that fire shone the black flame of hatred.

"Look, my dear, look. Look what it could be…"

Victoria looked. She saw her enemies crawl in agony, driven to exhaustion. She saw them lose those they loved. She saw them wandering aimlessly on their own, as she had done. She saw them tortured and tormented, punished for their fault in every possible way.

"They have spilled your blood, they shall have to wash it away with their own…" the voice whispered in her hear.

Victoria shuddered and looked away. Those images didn't give her any joy. They just made her feel sick, they were more than she could bear.

"Have you seen, my dear? Think of how it could be, with our powers in complete communion…"

Victoria raised her gaze: she was in the Common Room again, but her Housemates' bodies had disappeared. The voice sounded so near to her, and yet she couldn't see anyone. "Where are you?" she asked, looking around. "Show yourself."

"What's wrong, my dear?" the voice asked. "Maybe you do not trust me? You do not trust the only one who can and wants to help you?"

In the darkness that filled a corner of the room she could barely make out the blurry silhouette of a man in a big, dark cloak.

"Why should you help me?" she asked as she took a step toward him, her eyes fixed on him.

"You see, my dear, in a certain way I am like you Slytherins: I don't do anything for nothing. Helping you crush your enemies would be a real pleasure…but then I wish for you to help me crush my own." The girl did not answer, but kept on staring at him through half-lowered eyelids. "It would be a fair exchange, don't you think? All I am asking for is a little bit of collaboration on your part…" He came near her, without ever leaving the shadow, and offered her his hand. "So, do you agree to our deal?"

No answer came.

"Think about your Housemates, slaughtered like animals in this very room. Don't you want them to rest in peace? Would you really forgive their murderers?"

"No…" the girl murmured. "I could never forgive them."

"Think about all the things you saw! he spurred her. "The Gryffindors, proud and brave Gryffindors reduced to a stack of aching and bloody flesh! You saw them crawling at your feet, begging for death, tortured beyond endurance! Is it not what you want? Don't you want to pay then in their own coin?"

"I want justice." Victoria murmured. "I want them to expiate their crime and even if a court of Wizards never condemns them, they won't escape God's tribunal."

"God!" the voice replied mockingly. "Where was God when they stabbed Ianto Dawson? Or when they cut Aibrill O'Brien's throat? Where was God as Isobel Benyon died, choked by her own blood?"

"He was by their side!" Victoria replied firmly. "He was right by their side."

"Your God won't help you! Only I can give you what you want!"

"Justice?" she shook her head. "What you showed was not justice! It was barbarity, it was pain, it was destruction…It was Evil! You are Evil."

The "man" gritted his teeth. "You little fool! You have no idea of who you're dealing with!"

"Indeed, I do," she said in a firm and cold voice. "You're the Ring. You're a murderer, just like **_them_**! But you won't get nor me nor Frodo, you bastard!" she hissed, baring her teeth like a snake ready to strike.

The fake man let out a strident laughter. "You and the Halfling are already mine!" he shouted as reached out to grab her. Suddenly, Victoria heard a piercing scream and the man and the room disappeared in the dark.

She opened her eyes: she was still in Middle Earth, in the Emyn Muil. Duke, her hawk, had woke her up and saved her from that nightmare. As soon as he saw her eyes open, he shrieked again, flapping his wings.

"Duke, what's up?" the girl asked as the hawk caught her by the sleeve with his beak and tugged at it. "Don't make so much noise, you'll wake Frodo and Sam up…Oh, what's up?"

The hawk let go of her sleeve, flew to a rock nearby and stopped there, staring at something. Victoria got to her feet and caught up with him immediately, straining her eyes as she tried to see something in the semi-darkness of the hours that precede dawn.

She was about to scold him for all the noise he had made without a cause when she thought she saw something move, far away between the stones.

The young witch ran back to her backpack, rummaged through it and pulled out her grandmother's opera glasses. In a second, she was by Duke's side again, the binoculars glued to her eyes as she searched between the rocks.

She managed to see him in the very moment he slipped behind a stone, trying to hide. She had never seen him before and she hadn't been able to properly put him in focus before he disappeared, but she held no doubts on his identity. Victoria slowly lowered her binoculars and let her hand drop by her side. "Gollum…" she murmured in the dark.

The hawk screamed softly, as if he had been saying yes. The girl slowly raised her free hand and started stroking his head. "Good job, Duke…Good job…" She turned to him. "And thank you for waking me up and saving me from that cursed thing."

The hawk moved his head against her hand a little. He had understood everything.

Slowly, the young witch walked away from the barrel of rocks and lay back down on her blanket, sighing. Gollum was way too close for her comfort.

Other problems. Other troubles.

'As if the Ring hadn't been enough for tonight…' she tough as she massaged her own temples. By now, dawn couldn't be that far away: she was going to stay awake and wait for the others to get up.

As Victoria lay awake with Duke by her side, somebody rejoiced.

That witch wasn't so unbreakable as she thought. It had finally found a way to her mind. Soon she would fall as well, as that stupid Man she called father.

In the dark, the Ring smiled.

**1:** John Denver, Fox fire suite.

**2** St. Giovanni: St. John the Baptist, patron of Turin.

Liked it? Hated it?  
Leave a review and let me know.


	4. Gollum

Celebrating the fact I finished the 7th Harry Potter books - the 4th chapter!

CHAPTER IV: GOLLUM

"Gandalf!" Frodo shouted as he sat up, panting as if he had stopped after a long race.

"What is it, Mister Frodo?" Sam asked as he laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Another nightmare?" Victoria asked, approaching the two Hobbits.

Frodo raised his eyes on her for a second, but then he looked away immediately. "Nothing. Just a dream."

Sam lightly squeezed his shoulder to comfort him and the young gentlehobbit lay down again, trying to rest for a few minutes more. A shadow fell upon him. He saw Victoria kneeling down by his side and he automatically stiffened, bringing a hand to the Ring.

"If I was you, I wouldn't underestimate your dreams, Frodo…" the girl murmured seriously, looking at him in the eyes. She lowered her gaze on his hand that was clutching the Ring and tightened her lips in a firm, thin line. She wordlessly walked back to her pack and started looking for some Lembas for their breakfast.

Sam got up, rubbing his eyes, and came near her to help her.

A few minutes later, the three travelers ate their plain meal as Duke hunted among the rocks.

Frodo didn't let Victoria out of his gaze for a single moment. He couldn't help but wondering why she had wanted to come with them at all costs and why Aragorn and the others had not stopped her. At first he had thought that she hadn't asked for their permission, that she had left secretly like them…but if the truth had been a different one? His eyes drifted on the wand poking out from her pocket.

Victoria ate silently, reflecting on the nightly sighting. Her reflections had given her some ideas and those vague ideas had started taking a precise shape. She cleaned her hands on her trousers – which couldn't get dirtier anyway – and rolled up her blanket, tying on her backpack. She'd discuss her plan with the others as they walked. As soon as the two Hobbits were ready, they left. Victoria whispered some words to Duke and he took off, letting out a low shrieking. Frodo watched that exchange out of the corner of his eye.

They didn't see the hawk for a long part of the day. They continued their travel between the rocks with Victoria in the rear. She kept on glancing back.

Many hours later, the trio climbed over a steep passage and came out in a large widening of the path. Thunders rumbled far away and the blazing top of Mount Doom was sinisterly visible.

"Mordor," Sam murmured, staring at the dark mountain. "The one place in Middle Earth we don't want to see any closer. And it's the one place we are trying to get to. It's just where we can't get. Let's face it Mr. Frodo," he added as turned back. "We're lost. I don't think Gandalf meant for us to come this way."

"Things don't always turn out as we wish them to, Sam…" Victoria, who stood behind him, replied as her eyes explored the sky, looking for a small, winged shadow.

Frodo nodded, his voice full of sorrow for the loss of his dear friend. "He didn't mean for a lot of things to happen, Sam. But they did." He looked toward the volcano, their destination. Suddenly, he felt an inexplicable force dragging him away from his companions. That was the very same force that had taken Victoria away in his dreams. The Eye of Sauron was staring at him, it was right in front of him…Frodo dropped on a rock, panting, his legs trembling.

"Frodo!" Victoria cried out, running to him.

"I'm fine…It's nothing, it's already gone…" he panted.

"It's the Ring, isn't it?" Sam murmured.

"It's getting heavier…" the Ring Bearer admitted.

"Oh. It's afraid…" murmured the girl by his side.

The Hobbit looked at her quizzically. "Afraid? Him? Are you sure?"

She nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. He _**knows**_ where we're going and what fate awaits him. He **_knows_** that you're stronger than him."

"Right…" the Hobbit sighed, looking away from the witch's eyes. "Then why do I feel more afraid than him?"

"That's perfectly normal," she replied shrugging her shoulders. "We're all afraid. You must trust yourself more, Frodo."

The Hobbit nodded without looking at her, for he was thinking exactly the opposite thing.

'How can I trust myself if I feel I'm slipping away day by day?'

"What food have we got left?" he asked out loud, turning to his gardener.

"Well, let me see. Oh yes, lovely. Lembas bread," he answered, fumbling in his backpack. "And look!_** More**_Lembas bread."

Victoria barely suppressed a sigh as Sam broke three pieces of bread and handed them about, leaving the biggest for his master.

"I don't usually hold with foreign food…" he commented between a bite and the other. "…but this Elvish stuff, it's not bad."

"No, not at all…" Victoria agreed as she bit down on her part. The two Hobbit turned to look at her.

"Well? What's up?"

"I knew this would happen someday!" Frodo remarked, shaking his head. "She has gone out of her mind!"

"I didn't go out of my mind!" Victoria replied indignantly.

"It must have been the sun," Sam agreed.

"Oh, shut up, I'm perfectly fine!" she snorted.

"Really? Pray tell me, since when do you like Elvish food?" Frodo teased her.

"Since I can't afford anything else," the girl muttered. "Since it's all we have, I must learn to like it."

"Can't you turn it into something else?" Sam asked hopefully.

Victoria shrugged her shoulders. "I could, but it'd be useless. I can change its shape, but it'd always taste like Lembas bread. Which means tasteless." She shook her head. "Elves! Seeing what they eat, one could wonder how the hell they can live for such a long time!"

"If master Legolas heard you…" Sam remarked.

The three looked at each other and giggled, imagining the possible – not to say almost certain – reaction of the blonde Elf to the young witch's words.

Frodo half-smiled. "Nothing ever dampens your spirit, does it?"

Sam turned toward their destination. "Those dark clouds might…" he murmured as he stared at them.

Victoria did not answer.

They finished their meal silently, each one of them lost in his or her own thoughts. In that ghastly silence, a faint mist started rising from the ground. "It's getting foggy…" Victoria noted.

'And Duke hasn't come back yet,' she added privately.

"Just what we needed to make things easier…" Sam remarked as he took up his backpack.

Soon the whole area was wrapped up in a thick, wet milky blanket. Their travel from hard became impossible. They had to walk slowly not to lose their path and at the same time they tried not to stumble over that uneven ground – which proved all but easy. For hours they kept on going blindly, drowned in that grayish smoke. Finally, after an eternity or two, a breeze from the South started blowing, pushing away that fog-bank. They started looking around, but an unpleasant surprise awaited them.

"This looks strangely familiar," Sam remarked.

"It's because we've been here before," Frodo answered. "We're going in circles!"

Victoria swore through her gritted teeth. Meanwhile, Sam walked on a little, looking for another path. "Ah! What is that horrid stink?" He tried to smell the air and he almost threw up the mouthful of Lembas he had swallowed hours before. "I warrant there's a nasty bog nearby. Can you smell it?"

"Yes, I can smell it…" Frodo murmured, carefully looking around and inspecting the rocks that surrounded them. He felt trapped in those hostile eyes again. He was about to add something but a rasping sound preceded him.

He and Sam turned around just in time to see Duke landing on Victoria's outstretched arm. The young witch caressed the hawk and started whispering some sentences in her own tongue. It looked like she was interrogating him and the answers he gave her weren't to her liking.

The hawk took off and Victoria bent down to lace up her shoes. As she did so, her backpack slid down on her arm and fell on the ground, opening and scattering around part of its content. Instinctively, the two Hobbits moved to help her gather back everything.

"Pretend you haven't noticed, but we're being watched…" the girl murmured in a low voice, unhurriedly picking up her belongings. "Duke has just confirmed it."

"It's still Gollum, isn't it?" Frodo asked as he dusted a t-shirt.

"Yeah, and he's closer than we thought," she answered as she took the t-shirt from his hands.

"What should we do, Mister Frodo?" Sam asked, trying hard not to turn back.

"I have a plan, but I need your help…" Victoria whispered.

"Speak," the Ring Bearer urged her.

The girl came even nearer and explained to them her plan. But as soon as she finished, they had to resume their march, for they had already gathered everything and checked that nothing was broken. They walked side by side and continued their conversation in an hushed voice.

"What if we fall asleep before he comes? Or if he doesn't come at all?" Frodo asked worriedly.

"I'll pretend to send Duke hunting and exploring, but instead he'll stay around and keep watch. If we fall asleep, he'll wake us up as soon as he hears him coming. For the second question, according to Duke he's very close: there's a high probability that he'll attack us tonight."

"Great!" Sam groaned. "Our fate lies in the hands, sorry, in the claws of a hawk!"

Victoria glared at him. "Do you have a better plan?"

"No," he admitted, lowering his gaze.

"Frodo? What's your opinion? After all, you are the one who risks more…" She reminded him with a hint of worry in her voice.

The Hobbit stared straight ahead, reflecting carefully.

"All right," he sighed, finally. "I agree."

They continued their journey and camped at the bottom of a rocky wall just before nightfall. After dining with a piece of lembas, Victoria borrowed a pot, a frying-pan and a wooden fork from Sam and proceeded to transform them in three glasses. She filled them with water in which she dissolved a strange brown powder and used a spell to warm everything up. Then, she handed them the glasses.

"Here," she said. "It's not exactly the best coffee of the world, but at least it'll help us stay awake."

After a sip, Frodo coughed. "My, it's so bitter!"

"Sorry," the girl apologized. "Unfortunately, I have no sugar."

"It doesn't matter, it will be all right nonetheless," he answered as he emptied the glass, which was then cleaned with a rag and turned back into its original shape like the other two.

They prepared their pallets and then lay down. In the darkness of the night, their wake had begun.

Frodo and Sam lay still and awake behind their closed eyelids, watchful and with strained nerves.

About six feet and half across from them lay Victoria, her right hand hidden under her blanket grazing the wood of her wand.

It was a long wait, but the Hobbits had the hardest time, being so worried and anxious, their nerves on the edge of breaking. Victoria, instead, waited calmly and coldly, ready to strike in every moment.

Finally, in the dark a rattling breath and a voice alike the hiss of a snake were heard. "Hhhnn. The thievess. The thievess. The filthy little thievess! Wheeere isssit? Wheeere isssit? They stole it from us. My preciousssss. Cursse them, we hatess them! It's ours, it is, and we wants it!"

He reached for the two Hobbits with his skeleton-like hand, but, suddenly, the two "sleepers" sprang up. Each of them grabbed the creature by an arm and they pulled him down from the cliff as on the other side. Victoria kicked away her blanket and jumped to her feet, shouting a Stunner.

But their unexpected reaction – on which they had relied so much – didn't quite achieve the results they had hoped for: in the few seconds during which the action had unfolded itself, Gollum, as he tried to wriggle out from the Hobbits' grip, had dodged the Stunner, which had uselessly hit the rocks behind him.

The creature of the Ring immediately threw himself at the witch, throwing her on the ground and diverting also the second Stunner. A knobbed hand grasped her wrist as another closed around her throat, choking her. Victoria punched Gollum in the eye with her free hand, struggling and clawing to get rid of him until she managed to kick him away.

Gollum backed away a little, ready to jump at her again when he caught a golden spark out of the corner of his eye.

The Ring.

Forgetting the girl, he launched himself at the Ring Bearer, trying to grasp his precious. Frodo tried to block his hands, but the creature fought with the force of desperation and the Hobbit wasn't going to stop him – not now that he was so close to get his precious back.

A ray of light flashed between the two contenders. Gollum was seized by his leg and dragged away. With a quick darting, the creature of the Ring turned around and hit Sam, throwing him on the ground again.

Gollum threw himself at Frodo again, but Sam came to the rescue with Victoria's help. They tried to drag Gollum away, but he stubbornly refused to let go of Frodo and so the Hobbit was thrown on the other side.

Again, Gollum wriggled free of their grasp: he climbed on the cliff and jumped down on the Ring Bearer, but something came in between the two – or rather the three – of them, not allowing him to reach his goal.

That something was Victoria, who had thrown herself in front of Frodo to shield him with her own body. Furious, the creature of the Ring started kicking, scratching and punching blindly, desperately trying to remove the obstacle. His fury was so terrible that the young witch could only try to protect herself from his blows and hold him back for a while. On the ground, Frodo stared at their struggle, terrified.

Finally, Sam grabbed Gollum by his shoulders and managed to peel him off of her. Tired of his intromissions, the creature turned to him. He bit the Hobbit on the neck and the two fell down as they kept on fighting.

Suddenly, Sam found himself lying on his back, his throat closed in a death-grip by Gollum, who was still trying to bite him.

Victoria stopped looking for the wand she had dropped during her own battle and ran to the gardener's side. She placed her open hand under Gollum's chin to keep him from biting his prisoner as she tried to force the vice-like grip of the ex-Hobbit arms with the other.

She saw Frodo move out of the corner of her eye and heard the sound of an unsheathed sword. She fought harder, trying to gain some time more – and then Frodo grasped Gollum by the few hairs he still had left, wrenching his head from Victoria's grip and forcing him to turn around and look at the cold blade of a sword that now was grazing his neck.

"This is Sting…You've seen it before, haven't you, Gollum?" he whispered menacingly, almost spitting out the creature's name. Victoria was trying to set poor Sam free with all her might, but the creature of the Ring had tightened his hold on him even more. Frodo pushed the sword closer. "Release him or I'll cut your throat!" he growled.

Gollum let go of him and Victoria immediately helped Sam up, taking him away from the creature. In a second, the two Hobbits and the witch had aimed their respective swords and wand at their attacker. When he realized that he had been overpowered and defeated, Gollum closed his eyes and threw his head back. His face seemed to crumble as a scream of sorrow – like the cry of a baby – rose in the night.

"What…what are we gonna do now?" Victoria asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"We cannot leave him here," Sam murmured angrily and he moved as if to strike him.

Frodo's voice stopped him. "Wait!" The two turned to look at him. "Don't kill him." The Ring Bearer murmured before rising his gaze on Victoria's pale face. "Victoria, could you…?"

She didn't need other words to understand what he was asking of her. She slowly nodded and aimed her wand at the creature of the Ring, whispering a single word, "_Stupefy_!"

Gollum stiffened and fell silent, Stunned.

"Shall this be enough?" Sam asked doubtfully.

Victoria nodded. "I'm the only one around here who can undo the spell. He won't give us any trouble…at least until tomorrow," she added, glancing briefly at Frodo.

But the Hobbit did not answer her silent question. He just asked them, "Are you all right?"

"Aye, don't worry Mister Frodo. Just a couple of bruises and scratches, but nothing to worry about. I had it worse when I came to blows with Ted Sandyman…" Sam added, recalling an episode of his youth.

A smiled flashed for a moment on Frodo's cheeks. "What about you, Vivi?"

"I'm still whole," the witch replied.

"Are you sure?" he insisted as he came near her. The girl was bleeding from various scratches on her arms and face and, though he couldn't see them, he was certain that many bruises had started blooming on her legs and upper body.

Victoria half-smiled at him. "Don't you worry, I've seen worse days. I'm a little bit bruised, but I'll survive."

"Good…" Sam said. "What do we do now?"

"We can't go on, it's too dark. We must stay here," Victoria said.

"Stay? With _**him**_?" the gardener cried out.

"We can't risk getting lost or falling in a precipice." The witch argued.

Sam was about to answer her, but Frodo interposed himself between the two. "Stop it. Vivi is right, we cannot go anywhere."

Sam muttered something incomprehensible, but he didn't want to openly contradict his master.

"Okay, I'll take the first watch," Victoria murmured as Duke landed on her shoulder.

"No! I mean…I'd rather take the first watch," Frodo said, thankful to the darkness of the night that hid his suddenly pale face.

Victoria bowed her head sideways to look at him. "Are you sure, Frodo?"

The Hobbit nodded vigorously. "Yes, don't worry. I'm fine."

"Mister Frodo, if I may…"

"No, you may not," he replied irritated. "If I say that I feel strong enough to take the first watch, it means that I am strong enough to do it! I am not a boy, I can take care of myself."

"Hey, chill out!" Victoria said. "Do whatever you want, nobody's here to forbid you anything."

"Mmph," the Ring Bearer muttered as he sat down on the ground and cast a quick glance to his two companions.

Sam, always obedient, went to lie down in the very same place where he had been before and fell asleep in a few minutes. Victoria stayed up for a little bit longer, inspecting her wand and adjusting her belongings.

Frodo's eyes didn't leave her for a single moment. 'It almost seems that she's being so _**slow**_ on purpose…' he thought as he automatically grasped the Ring, as if he was checking that it was still there.

"Well, I'm off to bed…" Victoria announced finally, checking on Gollum for the last time. "If you see something wrong, wake us up."

"Yes, yes, I am not a fool," he replied acidly.

Victoria raised her hands defensively. "I just wanted to remind you. What the Hell is wrong with you tonight?"

"Nothing. Go to sleep."

Victoria lay on the ground and wrapped herself in her blanket, but it took her a lot of time to fall asleep.

Frodo sat in the dark on his own. Finally Victoria had fallen asleep and he was alone. In the faint moonlight, the Hobbit gazed at the Ring he held in the palm of his hand, wondering why he had reacted so badly to his friends' words.

'What's going on? I don't trust them anymore?'

Suddenly, he realized that it was the truth. He didn't trust them. He couldn't trust them. He had to be careful, very careful…He clutched the Ring in his fist. He couldn't let them take it away from him.

The next morning, it was Victoria's turn to "throw 'em down their cots." They ate their breakfast and dismounted their camp systematically ignoring the presence of the new, unwelcome element, who was still Stunned.

But, when it was time to leave, they had to stop beating around the bush.

Victoria was the first who spoke, breaking their silence. "So? What are we gonna do?" she asked as she stared insistently at Frodo. "We can't leave him Stunned forever."

"Who says so?" Sam asked. "We cannot set him free, he is too dangerous!"

"Do you want to kill him, then?" Victoria retorted. Sam did not answer. "Ah, I see. You desire his death, yet you have not the courage to do it yourself."

"Why, do you have this courage?" Sam shouted angrily.

"No," Victoria replied with frightening calm. "I don't. Not now. But one can never know…"

Sam muttered something that sounded suspiciously close to "lunatic," but Victoria, strangely, just cast him a cold glance.

"This won't take us anywhere…" Frodo murmured as he shook his head.

Again, nobody spoke. They just stood there, staring at the Stunned creature.

Finally, Frodo's low voice broke that silence. "Sam…do you still have some of that Elvish rope?"

The gardener turned to him. "Aye, I do. Why?"

"Tie him up. He is coming with us," he replied briefly.

"What?!" the Hobbit cried out.

The other ignored him. "Torey, you must undo your spell as soon as Sam finishes tying him."

The witch nodded. "Okay."

Sam's gaze ran from one to the other, then he shook his head as he made a face.

"Sam, we don't have the whole day…" Victoria said impatiently.

Muttering under his breath, the Hobbit started accomplishing his task.

The previous days had been nothing compared to that one.

If marching between the sharp gorges wasn't bad enough, Gollum and his screams only made the whole situation worse. They had been walking for little more than an hour, but Sam and Victoria already had had enough. The Hobbit was more and more convinced that his master had made a mistake, while the witch was starting to lose her temper…And then, all those screams reminded her too much the cries she had heard in the Slytherin Common Room during the night of April 30th. Minute by minute, the desire to shout at him to shut up or directly cast him a spell was getting stronger.

"It burns! It burns us! It freezes!" the creature shouted, stumbling between the rocks. Sam pulled at the rope, dragging him for one foot and half before he could grab a rock and hold onto it. "Nasty Elves twisted it! Take it off us!" he insisted.

"Quiet you!" Sam cried exasperatedly. Instead, Gollum arched his back and let out another wail. "It's hopeless! Every Orc in Mordor's going to hear this racket!" he snorted as he turned to his two companions. "Let's just tie him up and leave him!"

"Noo!" Gollum moaned. "Thats would kill us, kill us!"

"It's no more than you deserve!" the gardener replied.

"Sam!" Victoria cried out, glaring sternly at him. After what had befallen her Slytherin brothers and sisters, she had become very sensitive on the whole deserving-life-or-deserving-death case.

"Maybe he does deserve to die," Frodo murmured as he looked at the creature. "But now that I see him, I do pity him."

Hearing those words, Gollum got up a little. "We be nice to them if they be nice to us. Take it off us…" he begged as he grabbed the rope tied around his neck. "We swears to do what you wants, we swears!" he said as he bowed.

"There's no promise you make that I can trust," Frodo replied sternly.

Gollum tried to speak solemnly, getting on his knee. "We swears to serve the master of the precious. We will swear on…on the precious! Gollum! Gollum!" he bent forward, as if caught by a fit of cough.

"The Ring is treacherous…It will hold you to your word," the Ring Bearer murmured. The creature of the Ring crawled toward them. "Yess…on the precious. On the precious," he whispered as he stopped at Frodo's feet.

"I don't believe you!" Sam shouted as he came forward. Gollum scrambled away frightened, but Sam threw him on the ground with a violent tug at the rope as he kept on shouting, "Get down! I said down!"

Frodo immediately tried to hold him back and Victoria furiously snatched the rope out of his hands.

"He was trying to trick us!" the Hobbit said forcefully. "If we let him go, he'll throttle us into our sleep!"

"At least give him a chance!" Victoria replied as she checked that Gollum hadn't been injured.

Frodo slowly approached the creature, who backed away, frightened and panting. "You know the way to Mordor," the Hobbit said slowly.

"Yes," Gollum murmured in a broken voice.

"You've been there before."

"Y-yes." Gollum's huge eyes filled with tears, his voice became the voice of a frightened child.

Slowly but firmly, Frodo slipped the loop off his neck and threw the rope to Victoria, so she'd roll it up again. "You will lead us to the Black Gate," he told him as he looked at him in the eyes.

One second later, the Ring Bearer, the gardener, the witch and the hawk followed the creature of the Ring through the labyrinth of the Emyn Muil.

"To the Gate, to the Gate, to the Gate master says. Yes!" Gollum muttered as he ran. Suddenly, he hid behind a rock. "No! We won't go back. Not there. Not to him. They can't make us!" he growled angrily. "But we swore to serve the master of the precious… No. Ashes and dust and thirst there is, and pits, pits, pits, and Orcses, thousands of Orcses. And always the Great Eye watching, watching…Aaah!" he shouted against the two Hobbits and the witch, who were staring at him. He ran between the rocks and disappeared, ignoring Sam's calls.

"There, what did I tell you?" Sam cried out as he turned to the other two. "He's run off, the old villain. So much for his promises."

He had barely finished his sentence that Gollum's face reappeared above them, over the rocks. "This way, Hobbits and Wizardess. Follow me!"

The three rapidly glanced at each other, then they started climbing over the rocks.

'So, now the trio has become a quartet…' Victoria thought as she stepped over a couple of stones. She recalled Markie Flint's theory, which said that a group of four people was the perfect group. 'One to make a mess or end up in trouble, two to physically stop him or drag him away if necessary, one to stand back and apologize…' she chanted mentally. 'Damn, it almost sounds like the Ring's rigmarole.' She found herself thinking about her old group of four: Draco, Adrian, Markie and herself, the only one still living. She slowly shook her head. 'Who would have thought that we'd end up this way…'

And now there she was, part of another quartet. She let her gaze wander on her new companions. Frodo, Sam and Gollum. From three schoolmates and Housemates to three chaps about one foot three shorter than her in a mission against Evil, and one of them had a serious problem of behavior.

That's taking a step forward!

Forsaking irony, she started thinking about the roles decreed by Mark's theory. In the old group, usually Adrian ended up in trouble, Mark and Draco dragged him away and she stayed behind and apologized. She looked at her fellow-travelers again.

Who covered which role, now?

She was not sure. She didn't even try to imagine how and where the four of them would end up. Gawain Morgan – the Seer of Slytherin – had saved her alongside her other twenty-eight Housemates. Now part of his blood ran in her veins and part of his soul still lived within her with the others'.

But that was not enough.

And then, she had learned that Life is the most unforeseeable thing of the Universe.

She kept on running with the others, following their guide.

* * *

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	5. Through the marshes

With shameful delay - and my apologies to my beta reader, Daughter of Olorin: it's awful of me to keep her work gathering dust in my hard-disk.

CHAPTER V: THROUGH THE MARSHES

Around mid-morning, they were out of that labyrinth that had trapped them for days that felt like centuries. A plain lay out in front of them and, further on, they could see the flaming mountains. Frodo, Sam and Victoria stood still for a moment, looking at the long distance that still lay between them and their goal.

"Very lucky we find you," Gollum remarked.

'How lucky!' Victoria thought as she re-adjusted her pack on her back, looking at the distant top of Mount Doom. However, she thanked the creature with a small smile and a "Well done!"

They climbed down the hills and started walking in the plain. Suddenly, Sam found himself with his foot stuck in a deep puddle of watery mud. "It's a bog! He's led us into a swamp!" he cried out, not doing anything to conceal the distrust he held for their guide.

" A swamp, yes, yes…." Gollum remarked as he walked on a thin path of solid ground while Torey helped Sam up. "Come, master. We will take you on safe paths through the mist. Come Hobbits, come! We go quickly. I found it, I did! The way through the marshes. Orcs don't use it…Orcs don't know it! They go round for miles and miles!" he said proudly.

"Well, that's definitely a good thing," Victoria remarked as she ventured on the unstable sod.

"Come quickly! Soft and quick as shadows we must be," Gollum called them.

Frodo and Sam started following him through the marsh. Torey was about to follow them, but suddenly she felt strangely giddy. The land started spinning around her, the air was filled with a thousand confused voices, like moths…She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly. When she opened her eyes again, Sam stood a few feet away, staring at her. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes…I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Are you sure?" the Hobbit insisted.

"Yeah, it was just the fumes…"He nodded and turned around, quickening his pace to reach his master. Victoria adjusted her backpack on her shoulders. 'It was just the fumes…Maybe.'

So their long and hard crossing began.

In their quartet, the one who had the hardest time was, maybe, Victoria. She was heavier than the Hobbits and often she had to leave them to take long turns. As if that wasn't enough, she was always nervous for a reason she wouldn't tell. At first she had thought that it had just been an impression suggested by the gloomy landscape – which was worthy of a zombie movie – but soon she had realized that she was wrong.

There was something in the earth, in the water…Something familiar and different at the same time. Something that couldn't be fought with swords nor with wands.

As she walked, she felt her Housemates at the edges of her consciousness, moving slowly and sadly like the last autumn leaves falling from the trees. She still heard those stranger voices in her ears, whispering tales of which she could catch but a few fragments.

The girl tried to ignore them and concentrate on the dangerous path ahead, but she couldn't. Not completely. Those voices held her spellbound and during most of their journey she barely spoke to her companions, who were silent as well.

After a long morning of marching, they stopped to rest for a while and sat down together. Frodo nibbled at his Lembas, while Victoria ate her own slowly, as if there was something more important than food she had to think about – or to listen.

"I hate this place…" Sam mumbled. "It's too quiet. There hasn't been sight nor sound of a bird in two days, apart from him," he added as he nodded toward Duke.

Gollum answered his remark, speaking with deep sadness. "No, no birdses to eat. No crunchable birdses." He sighed, then his face lit up suddenly, as if he had just absorbed Sam's last words. He slowly turned toward the hawk roosted on a bush and started crawling toward him, trying to look innocent. Just a foot separated him from his pray when a menacing voice froze him in place, with a hand in the air.

"Try that and I'll Stun you," Victoria said. She hadn't turned around or looked away from the horizon, but she had slipped her hand toward her wand suggestively.

Gollum let out a nervous giggle and stepped back, followed by Duke's glare. The hawk screeched, almost underlining his mistress' words. The creature of the Ring muttered some obscure menace before he started whining, sounding like a spoiled child. "We are famished! Yes! Famished we are, preciouss!" he shrieked with his shrill voice. He saw a big worm crawling on the ground and caught him between two fingers, slurping it whole.

Victoria choked down a retch. 'Great…' she thought. 'I think I'll never be able to eat spaghetti again!'

Frodo broke a piece of his Lembas and tossed it to him. "Here."

Gollum hastily grabbed it. "What does it eats? Is it tasty?" He laughed and swallowed it whole, but then he started coughing. "It tries to chokes us!" he whined "We can't eats Hobbit food! We must starve!" he cried as he writhed.

'If there's a thing he doesn't lack in, that's surely a sense of drama…' the young witch thought.

By her side, the gardener insulted the creature. "Well, starve then! And good riddance." When she elbowed him hard in his ribs, he didn't flinch.

"Cruel Hobbit! It does not care if we be hungry! Does not care if we should die! Not like Master." He added in a different voice as he came near Frodo, "Master cares. Master knows."

"What does he know?" Victoria asked, staring at them.

Frodo slowly brought a hand to his chest, clutching the Ring through his shirt. "Yess, preciouss…" Gollum murmured, with maybe sadness, maybe regret in his eyes. "Once it takes hold of us, it never lets go," he whispered as he reached out for the Ring.

Frodo reacted suddenly, sending him away brusquely. "Don't touch me!"

The creature retreated wordlessly. The four of them just sat there, silent and still, all lost in their thoughts or in the voices that filled the air. They looked like forgotten statues.

The next day they reached one of the most dangerous points, where the ground was vastly deceitful. Victoria stared at the ground as she walked, vainly trying to concentrate on the invisible path and drive away those voices from her head. She ended up in the water to her knees, but luckily she managed to climb out and join the others.

The three of them advanced with great effort. Suddenly, the young witch saw something in the water…something that made her jump with horror and almost fall in a puddle, something that made her realize what those always-speaking voices were exactly. Corpses. All around them, buried in the water and yet looking like they were ready to get up in any moment. It was them she had been feeling so clearly, so strongly.

She wasn't the only one who noticed.

"There are dead things!" Sam murmured. "Dead faces in the water."

"All dead, all rotten!" The way Gollum said this sentence – with a kind of mocking and jeering – earned him a glare from Torey, but he went on. "Elves and Men and Orcses. A great battle long ago. The dead marshes. Yes, yes, that is their name. This way. Don't follow the lights."

Sam moved to follow him and sank in the water to his waist, barely managing to scramble up with the help of the witch.

"Careful now!" Gollum scolded them. "Or Hobbits go down to join the dead ones and light little candles of their own!"

Victoria barely listened to his words. She felt those presences around her, strong and whispering. 'No, these marshes aren't dead…' she thought glancing around. '..they're alive, alive and pulsing with their spirits…'

The girl kept on walking, her gaze on the ground and her ears filled with sighs of the past. She didn't notice that Frodo, who had been walking in front of her until a second before, had wandered away from the path and walked, as if hypnotized, toward the unmoving water. Sam's voice shouting his name woke her from that kind of trance – but it wasn't enough to wake Frodo. Victoria turned around just in time to see him fall face-down in the water. Instinctively, she ran toward him but the sod on which she placed her foot sank under her weight and trapped her. As the girl tried to break free, she glimpsed a dark blur jumping toward the puddle that had swallowed their friend. A second later, Gollum dragged the Ring Bearer ashore. The Hobbit couldn't hide his astonishment when he saw who had saved him. "Gollum?!" he said, surprised.

"Don't-follow-the-lights!" the creature scolded him before turning away.

"Gollum…" Frodo tried to call him back, but the other paid him no heed and Sam interrupted him, kneeling down by his side. "Mr. Frodo! Are you all right?" the gardener asked him anxiously.

Frodo did not answer. He kept on staring after the creature, astonishment, confusion and disbelief battling for the upper hand in his eyes.

As Sam tended to his master, Victoria finally managed to free her leg from the marsh and get back to her feet. She immediately headed toward her companions, but, instead of going near the Hobbits, she first approached he who had been an Hobbit, laying a hand on his thin shoulder. Gollum raised his pale eyes on her. "Thank you for saving his life. We owe you a lot." She got up and reached the other two. "You ok?" She knelt down again and dried the Hobbit with a quick spell. A few feet behind her, Gollum stared at her for a moment, then he looked away, muttering to himself. "Hurry, hurry! We cannot linger here! Nightfall is sstill far away!" he called them.

Victoria nodded. "We're coming. Can you walk?" she added, turning to Frodo.

Frodo nodded back as he brought a hand to his chest and took a deep breath. "Yes, I can…I'm fine," he said as he got to his feet.

Victoria's face darkened: without even realizing it, Frodo had clutched the Ring through his clothes.

They resumed their walking when she said, almost casually, "I guess you miss your home…"

"Oh, we do miss it a lot, Miss," Sam admitted, while Frodo kept silent. "I can't wait 'till we get back there. We have a lot of things to take care of back home."

"If we come back home…" Frodo muttered in a low voice, but not low enough not to be heard by Torey.

"Of course you're going to get back!" the girl said firmly. "You do have a home to come back to, that's why you must keep on fighting…"

"And what are you fighting for, Torey?" Frodo asked, staring at her with his blue eyes that looked so cold.

The girl opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came. She shook her head, "That ain't me we're talking about right now. Tell me something about the Shire. You're always citing it as if it was the Holy Land, yet you've never described it to me."

"Maybe because you were always too busy listening to Boromir's description of Gondor and Minas Tirith…" Frodo remarked acidly.

Victoria closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice held a strange note and her eyes shined a little. "Boromir is not here, now. And then, I've heard so much about the White City that I could tell you everything about it though I've never been there…" She threw them a half-smile. "I could even go there and not get lost."

Sam chuckled, but Frodo's smile was little more than a nervous flash upon his cheeks. Victoria didn't show it, but she didn't like it at all. However, she tried to sound happy and careless. "Come on, storyteller Baggins: tell me about your home."

Frodo started speaking.

As the hours went by, the night started spreading her dark cloak on the abused land. Continuing on that treacherous ground would have been a suicide, so they all agreed to stop. Gollum managed to guide them to a slightly safer spot, which was also large enough to allow them to lie down eagerly. They shared some lembas among themselves, then Sam and Victoria started carefully testing the ground – one meeting with the ghosts of the marshes was more than enough, thank you very much.

"Everything's fine here, Sam," the girl announced, raising her gaze from the area she had just inspected. Right in that moment, she saw Frodo staring at something he kept half-hidden in the palm of his hand – something that sparkled for a moment in the last light of the day and caught Gollum's gaze, though the creature didn't dare get near the Hobbit.

Torey pursed her lips in a firm and thin line, clenching her fists.

"The ground's too soft down there. Maybe we should move a little," Sam told her, waiting for a reaction that didn't come. "Miss?"

"Eh? Oh, yeah, of course, Sam. Excuse me…" She headed toward Frodo and he didn't even hear her coming, so caught up he was with his contemplation of the Ring. Torey stopped half a foot away, sadly watching his lost, neutral expression. Finally, she said his name, "Frodo…"

The Hobbit startled, scared, and hurriedly slipped the Ring under his shirt. "What do you want?"he muttered, staring at her with ice-cold eyes.

"Do you remember what we talked about today?" Torey's voice was as calm as the water of a lake.

The Hobbit frowned. "We talked about the Shire. You asked me to talk about the Shire," he answered slowly, trying to understand the true meaning of her question.

Torey closed the distance between them and knelt in front of him, looking at him in the eyes. "We talked about home. About your home." She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "You're lucky, Frodo Baggins. You do have a home to come back to. Don't forget it, ever." She looked away, staring with a face of disgust at a point of his shirt behind which the Ring was hidden. As if he had felt her gaze, Frodo raised a hand to his chest, almost protecting the Ring from those death glares. Torey looked back at his face and caught his hand between her own. "Frodo, please, listen to me. That thing won't help you go back home – quite the contrary, instead."

The Hobbit didn't answer and kept staring at her with his cold eyes, jerking his hand free from her grip.

Torey sighed. "Mind what you're doing, Frodo…_**That**_ ain't worth it," she said as she got to her feet. "If you ever need anything…well, you know." She slowly walked away, feeling his eyes on her back like daggers.

Torey stood still, raising her eyes on the dark sky and wrapping herself in her green cloak. She was cold, but it wasn't because of the sharp air. She clutched the cross around her neck, wondering what had happened at the warmth, the light she had always seen shining in those sky-colored eyes. She wrapped her cloak tighter, shuddering. 'Those who say that Hell is a hot place have never been there.'

"Miss Victoria!" Sam's voice calling her name forced her to turn around. "Aren't you going to sleep, Miss?"

The girl nodded. "Just a sec." She turned around and whistled. In a moment, the hawk landed on her arm. "I've got a job for you, Duke," she said, looking at him in his yellow eyes. "Tonight, you gotta keep watch for us. If you see something, anything strange…" Her eyes quickly moved from Frodo to Gollum. "…wake me up immediately, ok?" The hawk kind of nodded and flew down on a bush. "There's a good boy…" Victoria murmured, following him with her gaze for a moment before lying down to sleep.

Little by little, the two Hobbits, the witch and the creature fell in a restless slumber, filled with ghosts and nightmares.

Frodo threw his eyes open, panting, and automatically brought a hand to his chest. The Ring was still there. He closed his eyes as his breathing and his heartbeats slowed back to normal. Slowly, he slipped a hand under his shirt and took out the Ring, watching it as it sparkled in his hand.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Duke land near Victoria's sleeping form. Frodo moved as fast as a snake, sending the hawk away with a brusque move.

There was no need for Torey to wake up…she didn't need to know…After all, he wasn't doing anything wrong, he was just checking if everything was fine. He was the Ring Bearer, that was his right, wasn't it?

The golden circle caught his attention again. So small, but so powerful…so strong. Frodo started grazing it gently with his fingertips, as if instead of a cold, soulless piece of metal he had been stroking a lover's warm and soft skin. Frodo stared at it almost spellbound, unable to express his thoughts or his sensations. Suddenly, a stranger's voice did it for him. "So bright, so beautiful. Oh, preciouss…"

Gollum had spoken, bending as if he had been staring at something in the palm of his hand.

"What did you say?" the Ring Bearer asked, a note of panic ringing clearly in his voice.

"Master should be resting, master need to keep up his strength," he replied calmly, without turning around.

Instead, Frodo got to his feet and came near him. "Who are you?"

"Mustn't ask us. Not his business. Gollum! Gollum!" he coughed.

"Gandalf told me you were one of the river-folk," Frodo said, sitting down beside him.

"Cold be heart and hand and bone. Cold be travelers far from home," the creature said out loud, as if he had been reciting a poem or a ballad.

"He said your life was a sad story…" The Hobbit insisted.

"They do not see what lies ahead when the sun has faded and the moon is dead!" Gollum went on, turning his head, firmly decided not to listen to him.

"You were not so different from a Hobbit once, were you…Smeagol?" Frodo said that word in a low breath, as if it had been the revelation of a secret. That word finally caught Gollum's attention.

"What did you call me?" he asked in a low, disbelieving voice.

"That was your name once, wasn't it? A long time ago…"

"My name…" he murmured, incredulous, almost as if he had been trying to remember. "My name…Sss…Smeagol!" he whispered as his face lit up. In that moment, his eyes looked clearer.

Suddenly, Duke started thrashing, distracting them from their conversation and waking up Sam and Torey.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried out, sitting up quickly and glancing around, looking for his master and whatever enemy menaced them. "What happened?"

Victoria got to her feet and ran to Duke, bringing a hand to her wand. "Duke! Where?" she asked, referring to the oncoming danger.

The hawk looked up toward the sky and screeched. Then, a second, cold howling broke the silence of the first hours of the day, definitely chasing away Sleep.

"Black Riders!" Sam shouted, immediately recognizing the one and only source of that horrible sound.

"Hide!" Gollum screamed, jumping toward a big bush.

Frodo tried to get up, but he fell on the ground with a cry of pain: the wound in his shoulder hurt and burned, he felt caught in an icy vice. He could see those dreadful faces again, he could feel the dagger's poisoned blade tearing his flesh.

"Sam!" Victoria shouted, running to the fallen Hobbit and gathering him in her arms. "Take the packs, I'll get Frodo!"

"Quickly! They will see us! They will see us!" Gollum whined under the bush.

Victoria joined him and Sam a second later. She left the delirious Ring Bearer with the gardener and lay down in front of them, trying to hide their position with her green cloak.

"I thought they were dead!" Sam muttered as the Rider's rattles came closer and Victoria pulled out her wand.

"Dead?" Gollum said. "No, you cannot kill them, noo!"

In that moment, the Nazgul passed right over their heads, riding a kind of winged prehistoric beast.

The creature of the Ring screamed, terrified. "Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!"

"_E cria pi fort c'at sent nen_!" [Shout louder, he doesn't hear you – Piedmontese dialect] Victoria growled through her clenched teeth, clutching her wand. She could set the Wraith on fire with a spell, as she had done before, but then she'd reveal their position. She lay still, waiting. If he didn't see them, she wouldn't have done anything. But if he tried to get near…

The Nazgul's voice seemed to fill every corner of the Earth. Behind the witch, Frodo started looking for the Ring, who was answering his call.

"They are calling for it! They are calling for the precious!" Gollum said.

Hearing those words, Sam and Victoria turned just in time to see that Frodo was trying to put on the Ring.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam cried, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. "It's alright. I'm here."

After she saw that the cursed thing had been neutralized, Victoria turned back to their enemy, her wand ready. After never-ending seconds, the beast flew away, continuing his search.

Frodo, Sam and Victoria lie completely still for some minutes, listening to every sound. Finally, Victoria lowered her wand, Frodo slumped on the ground and Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

Gollum's ungraceful voice shook them. "Hurry, Hobbits and Wizardess! The Black gate is very close," he told them in a low voice.

Victoria nodded. "You're right. That Rider has gone away, but probably there are his brothers around. We'd better get away from here as fast as we can." Instead of getting up, she turned to Frodo. "Can you walk?" she asked him.

The Hobbit nodded. "Yes. I'm fine."

"Sure?" she asked, laying a hand on his forehead.

"Yes, sure!" he replied brusquely, getting on his feet. "Let's go."

Frodo started walking away, leaving his two friends behind and coming near Gollum. Sam and Victoria stood still, watching them.

"Did you hear it?" the girl murmured.

The Hobbit nodded. "Aye."

Victoria closed her eyes for a moment, running a hand over her forehead. "How I wish I could gag it!" she muttered angrily.

"Gollum?" Sam asked, completely at ease.

"No, the Ring," Victoria replied.

"Ah," the gardener said. "Well, we should hurry, Miss. It doesn't look like they are going to wait for us…" He lowered his voice. "…and that being isn't exactly the best kind of company for Mr. Frodo, if you know what I mean…"

Victoria looked at him sideways. "Do you think that…"

"So, are coming or not?" Frodo called them.

Victoria renounced her question. She and Sam took up their backpacks and then the strange quartet left again.

* * *

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